


The Path to Rediscovery

by KyrianKreep



Series: Rediscovery [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Abusive Relationship, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-04-10
Updated: 2011-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 21:57:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/181601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyrianKreep/pseuds/KyrianKreep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>‘I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me,’ Iruka thought repeatedly, willpower waning, turning onto his stomach and clutching his bloodied face. And even as he knew his death was imminent, it was one unexpected face that stuck in his mind. ‘Kakashi,'<br/>(Abusive MizuIru; eventual KakaIru with side SasuNaru)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the prologue only, and is set five years before the start of the main story. It contains abuse and violence - and, unfortunately, no KakuIru. This gives the background for the rest of the story, and while you don't have to read it to understand, it will help considerably.

“ _I can’t stand seeing you with him. I just can’t, not any more.”_

“ _What do you mean?” Iruka asked, annoyed, of his best friend._

“ _He’s using you, Iruka! Can’t you see that? He doesn’t love you, and I can’t stand it. I can’t watch you get hurt by him.” The other man replied, suppressing anger._

“ _Using me? Doesn’t love me? Bullshit, Kakashi!”_

“ _He’s a bastard, Iruka! All he wants is sex, and you know it!” Kakashi was met with a sharp pain in his face where the tan man had hit him with enough force to make him stagger backwards._

“ _He is not! What the fuck has gotten into you, Kakashi?” Iruka’s expression flickered from angry to hurt, watching his friend closely._

“ _Is it so wrong of me to look out for someone I care about?” Kakashi replied calmly yet bitterly. After a moment of silence, the older man turned and walked away._

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

Iruka couldn’t bring himself to cry anymore. His eyes were bloodshot, and the area around them was swollen, red and sore. His nose was just as sore. His head felt like it was splitting open. But more than any of that, his chest ached; it felt empty, like his heart had been ripped out.

“Iruka?” a familiar voice called from the hallway, but the brunette just squeezed his eyes shut. A sigh. “Iruka… Crying again?”

“No,” he mumbled hoarsely from where he was curled up on the sofa. There was a pile of scrunched up tissue on the floor next to him, and the rest of the apartment was a mess. Iruka didn’t move when he felt the sofa dip, and a hand come to stroke his hair back.

“It’s okay. But you know… It’s been almost two months now, and you still haven’t found him. I don’t think he wants to be found, darling. And it’s no use being upset like this all the time, is it? You need to get over it, and be happy again,”

“I-I can’t, Mizuki!” Iruka said, voice cracking. He curled up more, holding his lovers hand against his face. “He’s my best friend…”

“Look at you. You’re a mess! You can’t carry on like this. If you aren’t going to give up on him…” Mizuki sighed, “Then at least move in with me, let me keep an eye on you,”

Iruka sniffed, and slowly unwound. Once he was sat up, he looked around his small apartment with bleary eyes. They settled on the picture he held in his hand. Mizuki lived half away from here, his beloved home; he had been living there since he was first allowed out of the foster system. It was the perfect distance from his work, his ideal job. If he went to live with Mizuki, he wouldn't be able to carry on working there.

But if he stayed... He had so many memories in this small apartment. He could remember every time he and Kakashi settled on his sofa to watch a movie, every time they ended up chasing one another aorund the apartment laughing like madmen, every time it got too late for Kakashi to go home and had to stay over. Every time they woke up after one of those nights – bright eyed or nursing hangovers – and had pancakes for breakfast. Every time they sat in the middle of the floor surrounded by papers and books, studying late into the night. Every time they turned on the music, pushed back the furniture and danced and sang until the neighbours complained. Every time they sa side by side on the floor by his coffee table, planning lessons for the next day of work. Every time... It was the same at work. They had both managed to land teaching positions in the same school, and spent many an hour in the staff room or their classrooms goofing around or just chatting. Complaining about students. Drinking cup after cup of coffee to stay awake.

Kakashi had never been to Mizuki's home. When Iruka was there, there weren't quite so many things to remind him of his lost friend. It would mean giving up his life as he knew it, but Mizuki was right. It would be so much less painful.

Finally, he gave a small nod, and his lover pulled him closer.

“I’ll help you pack, starting tomorrow,” he promised. “It can be a new start for you… Without Kakashi.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

“Mizuki? Is that you?” Iruka called from their shared kitchen, leaning around the door-frame. He smiled when he saw his lover, and ran over to welcome him home. His smile faltered when the other man walked straight past him, offering only a small nod in greeting. He followed him to the study, and tried again. “Mizuki, dinner’s almost ready. I made your favourite,”

“Bring it in when it is,” the taller man grunted, otherwise ignoring him. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Oh. Yeah, of course…” Iruka said, clearly disappointed. He left the room slowly and silently; trying to not let it get to him that his lover had blown him off for the tenth time in a row. He sighed, heading back to the kitchen.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

“Good morning, lo-” Iruka cut himself off when his arm landed on cold sheets instead of a warm body. Opening his eyes, he sat up, pulled on his boxers, and hurriedly looked around the house. There was no sign of Mizuki anywhere. Again. Iruka didn't know why he'd hoped, but he _had_ hoped that they would have at least this day together.

“Love. Happy anniversary.” He finished dejectedly to himself and the empty room.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

The brunette grunted, winded, when he was rudely shoved awake. He curled in on himself, gasping for breath.

“Iruka you fucking whore! Get your sorry ass out of my bed this instant!” the harsh, angry shout of his lover greeted him, with more shoving.

“M-Mizuki!” he cried out, shocked at the rough treatment the previously calm man was giving him. It surprised him too that it was Kakashi’s voice that came to mind: _“He’s using you. He doesn’t love you.”_

“I said get up you filthy slut!” Mizuki shouted again, grabbing his arm and pulling him off the bed. “Get the hell downstairs and tell your fucking ‘friends’ to get out of my house,”

“M-my friends? W-why?” Iruka stammered, ignoring the pain in his knees and arm. For the first time in his life, he was afraid of the man he loved.

“Because I’m trying to have a nice, relaxing morning – and the bitches won’t go until they’ve seen your damn face! Get the hell down there, now!”

“O-O-Okay!” he squeaked, scrambling away towards the door, wary of the violent aura behind him. It wasn't like him. It wasn't like either of them. Iruka had a backbone; he was stubborn, he never let himself be kicked around. But seeing Mizuki in a mood like this, worse than any he had seen before, he couldn't help but hurry to obey.

“Get off the floor, you weak shit-head! And don’t you dare start bitching to them,” the silver-headed man growled, glaring as the man in front of him stumbled to his feet. “You will tell them that you are ill, and make them leave, do you understand? You are not under any circumstances to see them again,”

“But… They’re my friends, Mizuki!” Iruka argued, stopping and turning. That was not a request made just because of a bad mood. He would put them off for the day if it calmed Mizuki down, but- He just about managed to dodge the foot aimed his way.

“I don’t give a shit, you are not seeing them, or anyone else!” the angered man ordered, watching with a sick smirk as the smaller of the two cowered before him.

“No-one? Why? Why the hell can’t I have a life away from you?” Iruka snapped, yet looked so weak that Mizuki only laughed in his face.

“Because, Iruka, there is no reason for you to stain the world with your worthless, pathetic being outside of my kitchen and bedroom,” he hissed, looming over him. Iruka refrained from whimpering or crying, not wanting to look any weaker than he already did. “Now be a good little whore and tell your visitors to fuck off,”

Terrified as he was, all Iruka could do was run downstairs with a fake smile, and greet his friends to do as he was asked. He could barely keep the tears from falling when he met their concerned gazes, and had to say goodbye for the last time.

“Goodbye,” he whispered again, closing the door behind them when they left, letting the first tear fall. He looked up, and met the smug gaze of Mizuki, who had stood watching in the shadows the whole time.

“Good bitch.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

“I can’t take this anymore,” Iruka cried a fortnight later, hand clenching around the duffel bag he had already packed. “I’m leaving – you, and this house.”

Mizuki growled as Iruka turned around, grabbing his ponytail and dragging him backwards when a tan hand touched the bronze doorknob. He paid no mind to the shout of pain, instead twisting him around and hauling him off the ground by his collar.

“Leaving? Oh, Iruka… What good will that do you?” He threw the man in his hands onto the cold floor, stamping his boot-clad foot down onto his stomach when he had, digging his toes in and apparently revelling in the pain-contorted face below him. “No-one else will love you like I do. None of the others in this world care if you are alive or dead. In fact, they would much rather see your stupid little name on a gravestone than your pathetic face…”

“Lies!” Iruka spat out, yelling out again when the foot on his stomach moved to kick him in the head.

“Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Mizuki shouted, kicking him again in the side. “You foolish brat, can’t you see what I do for you? I take your snivelling ass in, give you shelter and food and love… and how do you repay me? By trying to leave?”

Mizuki grabbed his collar again, pulling him up with one hand, and using the other to lay a hard blow to his face. The brunette was crying by now, screaming out with the pain.

“You. Don’t. Deserve. To live!” he shouted, punctuating each word with hits to his stomach. Iruka coughed, and saw the blood splatter on the floor in horror. “But I care for you anyway,” he crooned a little too sweetly, face a mere few inches away. With a wordless yell, he threw the brunette away again, this time into the wall.

“M-Mizuki! Please! S-Stop!” Iruka yelled through his pain, lying limp against the wall, eyes and fists scrunched shut with a trickle of blood rolling down from his mouth.

“Not until you’ve learnt your fucking lesson,” Mizuki growled, stalking forward. He crouched down next to him slowly. “You will never leave, not in your sorry-ass life,”

He finished quietly, a hissed whisper, before grabbing brown hair, and slamming his head into the wall. Iruka couldn’t even scream, his senses blurring and then fading away completely.

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

The next morning, Iruka awoke with a groan. His body was killing him, especially his head and throat. For a moment, he thought he had he flu, not registering what had happened.

“Good morning,” Mizuki said, voice so sweet it made the other man tense. “I see you’ve finally decided to wake up.”

“M-Mizuki…” Iruka’s voice was hoarse, and his eyes flew open to meet the smirking gaze of his lover.

“I expect you will be making me breakfast as an apology, every morning. Lunch and dinner too, of course.” The older man said casually, heading for the bedroom door. He hadn’t bothered moving Iruka from where he lay against the wall. He paused and looked back when he got the door open, smiling. “Oh, and Iruka darling? If you ever try to leave again, I will kill you.”

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

It had been six months since Iruka’s attempted escape. On a good day, he was only hit once. His tan skin was covered in bruises and cuts, and his ribs were showing slightly from malnourishment. He had grown used to the treatment and pain now, and though he disliked it, he continued through fear of Mizuki. There was no doubt in his mind that he would go through with his death-threat.

He breathed in through his teeth as he scrubbed at the floor, ensuring every inch was spotless. He had already given Mizuki his breakfast, and a bento to take with him to work. While alone, he had to clean the house, do all of the chores, and cook a full meal so that it was ready and warm on a plate when Mizuki returned. It was the same routine. The only time it was any different was on a Monday, when he had to order groceries to be delivered. It was only on Mondays, and the odd time when the postman came with a package, that he got any human contact besides that with Mizuki. He didn’t have to fake his smile then, and often kept them to talk for a couple of minutes longer than necessary before he had to return to his chores. If he didn’t have them all completed, his master would be angry for sure. The one time this had happened, Iruka was given especially harsh beatings and threats, followed by a night tied face-down to the bed. He didn’t want a repeat of that.

This stone-set routine is why the slaving man was so shocked to hear the doorbell. It was a Thursday. Nobody should be visiting them. He carefully stood, and checked over his appearance. He didn’t want any injuries showing after all; and he had to look presentable. As pleased as he would get with it, he quickly checked the time. Mizuki would be home soon, and he was just about finished. Smiling, he opened the door, and gasped when he saw a policeman on the other side.

“Good evening,” the man greeted, glancing at a clipboard he held. “May I have a quick word, Mr…?”

“U-Umino, Iruka Umino. Y-Yes, of course officer, do come in,” he said hurriedly, standing aside and gesturing to the sofa. The other took in his and the house’s appearance, and sat. “What can I do for you?”

“Well, Mr Umino, I am just here to inform you about a series of thefts that have taken place in your neighbourhood recently,” Iruka let out a breath he didn’t realise he had held, and sat down opposite the officer. “Are you aware of them..? Basically, several houses have been broken into, and many valuable possessions stolen. It seems, however, that the person behind them is targeting specific houses, as though searching for something. Have you seen anything suspicious lately?”

‘Other than Mizuki becoming increasingly violent?’ “I’m afraid not, officer. I… don’t often leave the house,” ‘I’m not allowed to, under pain of death.’

“I see. Are you the owner of this house?”

“Ah, no. That would be my… partner, Mizuki,” Iruka had to hesitate before letting the word out. It didn’t feel natural to call Mizuki anything so intimate any more. His heart was pounding. He felt like telling the officer everything that had happened, using this opportunity to escape. But he knew that it would do him no good. Mizuki would be furious. He would kill him. Looking at the clock again, he was close to panicking. “He should be home soon, actually,”

“Are you alright, Mr Umino? You look a little pale,” The officer said, frowning. With a forced smile, the brunette nodded.

“Y-Yes, I’m fine. I just noticed the time, is all – dinner’s in the oven, I wouldn’t want it to burn…” he said, wishing he could say anything but, yet hoping that the other would take his hint and leave so that he could have everything ready in time. He tugged at his sleeve, making sure it covered the finger-shaped bruises on his wrist.

“Of course, I’m sorry to keep you,” the officer said, standing again. “You will report anything you see or hear out of the ordinary, and inform your partner, won’t you?”

“Yes, yes, of course I will.” He lied, knowing he wouldn’t see or hear anything, and that he couldn’t possibly tell Mizuki. He subtly managed to get the officer out of the door, said goodbye, and shut the door. He had only a couple of minutes to clear up, set the table, and dish up the meal.

As such, he ran to where he left the bucket and brush, taking them with him to the kitchen after a quick inspection of the floor. He emptied the dirtied water down the sink, and shoved his cleaning supplies into the cupboard below. Then, he checked the food, and turned off the oven. A plate and its cutlery were set carefully in place – Mizuki always ate alone. Just as he was filling the plate, his so-called lover entered the room with a harsh look.

“Dinner isn’t served yet?” he asked, not bothering with greetings. Iruka was nothing more than a slave to him. Slaves didn't deserve acknowledgement.

“I’m sorry, I got caught up talking to the policeman-” Iruka tried to explain, still placing food onto the plate. He paused only to bow once, careful not to drop the bowl and spoon he held.

“Policeman? What policeman?” Mizuki growled, stepping closer. Iruka automatically stepped back, realising his mistake.

“H-He was here to ask if we knew anything about some thefts,” he said hurriedly. “I told him we hadn’t, and sent him off quickly. I didn’t let him see, I swear,”

“And why am I supposed to trust you, whore?” Mizuki spat, successfully trapping him against the counter, but still not touching him. Iruka had no answer. Iruka's hands shook uncontrollably, and he dropped everything he was holding.

‘Shit’ he thought, as dark eyes narrowed. ‘This is going to hurt.’

 

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

 

Iruka panicked when he awoke for the second time the next day. That morning, he had made Mizuki his breakfast and dinner, and then passed out again. The pain was more than anything he’d experienced in the last six months. He could barely move. And worse still, it was now 4:30pm, leaving him only an hour to complete six hours worth of chores.

“He’s going to kill me,”

The floor was dirty. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to scrub it, seeing as he couldn’t even sit up. The bin was full. He couldn’t empty it. It was Friday, meaning he was expected to cook a full meal that would take at least half an hour to prepare, and longer to cook…

“I need to get out of here,” he said to himself, looking behind him at the closed front door. If he managed to get out, he would have to go to one of the neighbours, and beg them to help him. He hadn’t seen any of them since he moved in eight months ago; he hoped they would remember him.

Deciding there was no time to waste thinking it over he rolled onto his front. He then proceeded to force himself onto his knees, and began steadily crawling to the door. Each movement sent a shot of fire up his back, but he kept going. It took him five minutes just to make it the meter or so to the door; he cursed. Now to stand up, unbolt it, and get out.

It took a good few minutes to get onto his feet, cursing all the way. Even then, he couldn’t stand straight. Sighing with relief, Iruka bit his lip and opened the door, looking at his feet. After a tentative few steps, he looked up.

Only to be met by the sight of his livid partner walking towards him.

“M-Mizuk-ki, y-you’re h-home earl-l-ly,” the brunette stuttered, shrinking back towards the house.

“What did I say?” the other man hissed, subtly yet roughly pushing the smaller back into the house. The door slammed shut behind them. “What. Did I. SAY?”

“M-Mizuki p-please-” he was cut off by a sharp slap around the face. Before he could react, there was a strong hand wrapped firmly around his throat, holding him up above the ground. He gurgled, trying to breathe.

“Trying to defy me again, you filthy fucking whore?” Mizuki growled, glaring into brown eyes with a coldness Iruka had never seen before. Tan hands came up to grab at the pale one, his eyes rolling back and face paling. “Didn’t learn your lesson? What did I expect, from a stupid thing like you?”

Just before he passed out from lack of oxygen, Iruka was thrown down to the floor. He gasped for air, coughing, a task made harder by the rough blows to his stomach. As he lay there, Mizuki walked off into the kitchen, returning moments later with two knives and a sadistic smirk.

“I told you, Iruka, you won’t live to defy me again,” he said in a too-sweet tone, catching the injured man’s attention. When he saw the knives, his breathing and heart rate sped up, and he tried to get to his feet, eyes never leaving the shining blades. Suddenly one flew towards him, aiming for the spot between his eyes. With a yelp, he turned his head, screaming out in pain when a long cut was left across the bridge of his nose. The knife landed with a thud nearby.

‘I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me,’ Iruka thought repeatedly, willpower waning, turning onto his stomach and clutching his bloodied face. And even knowing that his death was imminent, it was one unexpected face that stuck in his mind. ‘Kakashi! I have to see him again, I have to get away from here and find-’

Racing thoughts were cut off with another sharp, excruciating pain in his back. He screamed again, arching away from the blade.

“No! Help, someone, p-please!” he yelled as loud as he could, hoping that someone would hear and save him. As he did, he forced his body to crawl back towards the door and away from the approaching madman. He continued to shout out as he did, the image of his former best friend never leaving his mind.

“Shut up, you fool!” Mizuki spat, kicking him again. “Accept your punishment!”

“Don’t kill me, please, don’t kill me Mizuki!” Iruka yelled hysterically, fighting to get away. He kicked out at the man beside him, hitting him in the shin.

“Bitch!” the silver headed man shouted, clutching his throbbing leg. He fell down to his knees and grabbed Iruka by the shoulder with one hand, and the knife with the other. Iruka screamed again at the fresh pain the deeper wound caused. “Shut the hell up!”

His head was roughly slammed down to the floor; he screamed again, louder. When a pale hand covered his mouth, he bit down, determined now to get away. He could feel the blood covering him and the floor, making him slip. His vision was fading.

“No, I can’t die,” he said shakily, using the last of his energy to cry out for help one last time.

“Too late,” Mizuki said, beginning to laugh manically, not stopping his beatings. His words got louder, interspersed by that laughter. “Too late, you filthy fucking whore! You’re dead! You hear me? Dead!”

Iruka shuddered, still trying to shout and move weakly. He couldn’t find his voice, and his limbs didn’t want to work.

“Kakashi,” he breathed out as he finally lost consciousness, lying in a pool of his own blood. Mizuki remained kneeling next to him, laughing hysterically as the crimson soaked into his designer clothes and pale skin.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All feedback is appreciated :)


	2. Another Day

"Naruto, wake up!"

A blonde boy in his mid teens with whisker-like scars groaned, turning over and curling up in his bed. His shoulder was shaken and the voice called out to him again.

"Naruto, we are going to be late and if you don't get up now there will be no ramen for a week,"

"Okay, okay, I'm up! No need to threaten the ramen!" the boy said, shrugging off the hand and forcing himself to sit and stretch. "Jeez, Iruka..."

"Hmph, get out of bed and hurry up. I can not afford to be late this morning," the tan man ordered, quickly fastening his tie as he walked back into his own room. He looked in the mirror and sighed, running a finger over the dark line running over his face. His brow puckered with his frown.

"Well, Iruka, time for another day..." he muttered to himself, fetching a small tube. He squeezed some of its contents onto a finger and carefully rubbed it over his scar, effectively hiding it from all but the closest inspections.

Satisfied, he headed downstairs, banging on his son's door as he passed it. Naruto's muffled yell confirmed that he didn't have to waste more time dragging him back to the world of the living, allowing Iruka to continue on his way. Once in the kitchen he dropped four slices of bread into the toaster, fetched the carton of orange juice from the fridge, and poured it evenly into two waiting glasses. The juice went back into the fridge and he took the minute to flick through the folder full of papers he had left on the table, ensuring that he had every lesson plan and necessary worksheet for the day in a sensible order.

"Morning," Naruto yawned, shuffling into the room. Iruka looked up at him and frowned: his shirt was buttoned incorrectly and was partially untucked, his tie was knotted and too short, and his hair wasn't tamed in the slightest. "What? Got something on my face?"

"Come here..." the older man said, hurrying over to fix Naruto's appearance with a speed only gained through practice. "There! Much better. We can not have you leaving the house looking a mess, can we?"

Naruto, used to his father's behaviour, said nothing. Instead, he opted to roll his eyes and grab his juice, stepping out of the way as he always did so that when the toaster popped, Iruka could run over and butter it before it had a chance to cool. Shoving two slices into Naruto's hand, Iruka drained the last of his orange juice and grabbed his own toast.

"Come on, you can eat on the way. Have you got everything?" he asked, tucking his folder under his arm. Naruto nodded and shouldered his backpack. "Good, quick now! Into the car,"

"Time for another day..." Naruto sighed, following the frenzied older man into the vehicle at a more sane pace, biting into his toast as he did.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

'Just perfect...' Iruka sighed, hurrying through the hallways of the college he worked in to reach his classroom. As he had predicted, he was running late, and was determined to reach his room by the time the bell for first lesson rang. He cursed himself for sleeping in, opening the door while the bell still echoed.

"Alright class, settle down! Sorry for being late," he called, silencing them. Some teachers earnt respect through humour, or through being strict. Iruka had been forced to fight for his in the first months of working there, the classes unable to see him as more than a weak joke. Now, he was one of their favourite members of staff: strict when needed, but understanding, friendly and polite at all other times. "Okay, thank you. I am going to give you today's lesson to finish the projects you started yesterday. Get into groups and get started, please,"

As they did as they were asked, Iruka turned to his whiteboard. Using a black marker, he wrote the date there in his neat cursive: Thursday 6th June.

'Five years today,' he thought absently before he could stop himself, ignoring the twin itches he suddenly developed on his back and nose. He refused to think of the negative aspects of this day. It was a day to be celebrated, marking the start of his new life.

"Mr Umino?" one of his students called out, startling him. He obediently went over to see what he could do to help, wearing a bright smile that he wouldn't let waver.

\- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Okay class, off you go," he said, waving them out of the door when the bell ringed to signal break time. He stayed for a minute longer to tidy his desk, putting everything in its proper place. Pleased with it, he then left to meet with his friends and co-workers in the staff common room.

A few minutes later, he arrived at the bright blue door marked as staff only and hesitated before taking hold of the handle. He wasn't sure why, since he used the same door at break time on most school days - but he did tend to be overly wary on June 6th even if he did ignore everything but the postive. He pushed the handle down and opened the door, watching his feet as he walked in and turned around to shut it again. Once he heard the click of the latch, he turned to the room with a smile that quickly disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter, but far from the last one - more should be up in the near future!  
> All feedback is appreciated. Thanks for reading :)


End file.
